


please don’t take my sunshine away

by Julien_C



Category: Smosh
Genre: Angst, Blood, Fluff, Gang Violence, Gun Mentioned, Hurt and comfort, Injury, M/M, weshire - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-10-26 15:27:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20744447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Julien_C/pseuds/Julien_C
Summary: Based loosely on Wes’s description of his near death experience.





	please don’t take my sunshine away

The soft shut of a door. 

A feeble attempt at calling for help. 

A body collapsing to the ground. 

•••

It had been a few too many hours since Joven’s roommate should have returned from work, and he couldn’t help but worry. What if’s flew through his head, imagining the worst. He pictured his love’s body stuffed out of sight in a dark alley. He pictured a car in flames on the side of a road, Wes’s beautiful figure trapped inside. Joven pushed these thoughts away, assuring himself that the other man had just been held back finishing an editing job. Yet, wouldn’t Wes have texted him? No, he had just forgotten, or maybe lost track of time. But… 

Joven was pulled from his thoughts as he heard the door to his shared apartment open. He let out a relieved breath.   
“Thank god Wes, I was starting to…” Joven was cut off by the sound of a shaky “Joven, help…” and a thump. Joven’s heart stopped. He raced toward the sound.   
‘Oh dear God, please no. Please…’

••• 

Wes felt terribly for not texting Joven that he had been held back at work, finishing up a project. His poor friend would be worried half to death. He pulled out his phone to send an explanation as he packed his equipment into the trunk of his car. Before he could begin typing, however, he became aware of a car slowly pulling up to park mere inches from his own. 

As his workplace wasn’t in the safest part of town, this was especially unnerving, so Wes reached for the gun he had packed in his trunk for his planned trip to the shooting range the next day. He cursed under his breath as he recalled his empty magazine, as per the rules of the shooting range. Hopefully the sight of his being armed would deter the creeps. 

He peered at the four men now exiting the threatening car and caught sight of two of them visibly wielding knives. His blood chilled as he realized they were creeping toward him. He tore the gun from his trunk and held it pointed at them, trying to steady his trembling hands. The men stepped back, caught off guard, but they seemed to remember their clear number advantage, and spread so that they were approaching Wes, now more quickly, from several angles. 

Wes, becoming more and more panicked, frantically aimed his gun from man to man. However, he was painfully aware of his disadvantage, not only in number, but also ammunition. Wes heard the men chuckle as he backed away. He felt his back collide with a wall and his body went cold. He had quite literally backed himself into a corner. 

One of the men without a knife approached him, a revolting grin on his face. Wes aimed his gun at the man, but he knew it was no use. This must have shown on his face, because the man just smirked cockily and swatted Wes’s gun to the ground. The man then proceeded to strike Wes directly on the cheekbone, and Wes felt his head jut out awkwardly to the side. He painfully turned his head forwards and landed a blow directly to the attacker’s stomach. The man doubled over, but one of his cohorts rushed over, this time one with a knife, and pinned Wes to the wall, knife to his throat. 

This new threat let out a low growl as he gestured to his accomplices to join him. They eagerly complied, and Wes shrunk into the wall. The other man with a knife jabbed it into Wes’s stomach, almost jovially. Wes couldn’t help but cry out, but his shout was met by a hand roughly shoved over his mouth, smashing his head against the wall. Wes was rendered helpless as the men beat him and slashed at his body. 

Seemingly having gotten their point across, or possibly having gotten bored, the men released him and quickly got into their car and drove away. Wes slumped to the ground, every inch of his body searing with pain. He half crawled across the ground to retrieve his useless weapon, then drug himself into his vehicle. Somehow, he managed to drive himself home. 

Wes stumbled into the apartment with one thought in his mind. Joven. Joven could help him. Wes feebly called for his love before the world went black. 

•••

The sight before Joven was straight from his nightmares. Wes was crumpled on the floor, blood pouring from several gashes all over his body. Bruises were already forming where he had been struck by the gang members. Joven rushed to the unconscious man’s side, screams escaping his lips. His hands trembled as he dialed 911, and he begged for an ambulance between sobs. Once help was promised, Joven pulled Wes’s broken body onto his lap. He held Wes’s darling face to his, and rocked back and forth, weeping. 

••• 

In the hospital room, Joven sat by Wes’s side, eyes never leaving the man’s beautiful, bloody face. A tear fell from Joven’s eye onto Wes’s cheek, and he delicately wiped it away. 

The steady beep of the heart monitor should have comforted him, reassuring him that his best more-than-friend was still alive, but it only served as a constant reminder of this living nightmare. It had been hours since Joven had been so relieved by the sound of Wes returning home, only to be met with a cruel reality. 

Now, gently holding his love’s hand, normally so strong but now so weak, he pleaded with fate to give him back the one he loved so dearly. He whimpered as he confessed his love to Wes’s unhearing ears. Joven’s heart ached for moments gone by when he hadn’t expressed his love for the other man out of fear, but now all he wanted was for Wes to know how much Joven loved him, no matter what. 

Joven lowered his face to the sheets by the other man and hopelessly weeped into them. Just then, he felt the hand held in his own twitch. His head shot up, and he called for the nurse as Wes’s eyes fluttered open. 

••• 

Wes slowly regained consciousness, blinking against the bright lights above him. The world appeared faded and blurred, but Wes could see an almost fully white room surrounding him, and his Joven above him, shouting something that Wes didn’t understand to someone Wes couldn’t see. He felt Joven’s hand in his, and tried to squeeze it, but only then did the excruciating pain rush back to him. 

Wes screamed as he became acutely aware of everywhere he had been stabbed and beaten. He felt his Joven carefully caress his face, comforting him, murmuring words that Wes couldn’t make out but he knew to be of consolation. He stared into Joven’s warm eyes as he hyperventilated and shook, both out of fear and out of pain, and hot tears ran down his cheeks. In his peripheral vision, he saw a woman dressed in white hurry to his side, but he only cared about his precious, beautiful, perfect Joven. 

•••

Joven’s heart felt as though it was as injured as Wes as the man’s eyes gazed into his own and his body convulsed. Thinking that Wes was having a seizure, he shrieked to the nurse, but she assured Joven that Wes was only hyperventilating. Only barely reassured, Joven turned his attention back to his beautiful Wesley. His beautiful, broken Wesley. His eyes blurred and burned with tears, and he brought Wes’s hand to his lips. He observed the softness in the other man’s eyes as he did so, and he felt his heart warm. 

This feeling was only momentary, however, as the doctor entered and explained that she would be putting Wes to sleep for emergency surgery. Joven felt worry course through his veins, but he had no hope but to trust the doctor to save his love’s life. 

•••

Wes came to hours later, the operation having succeeded and his wounds having been stitched up. He weakly turned his head to observe Joven, asleep on a couch near his own bed. Wes then realized how his pain had subsided, though he attributed in part to the various painkillers he had probably been given. But still, his body didn’t ache nearly as much. He gazed at the beautiful man peacefully asleep near to him, and ached to reach out and kiss him, but he still felt contented to see Joven, at least momentarily, calm. He turned his head again to the ceiling and felt himself fall out of consciousness once more. 

•••

Months after the terrifying attack, Wes had been almost fully healed, going to physical therapy for the bones that had been found to be broken, but the nightmare was almost completely over for him and Joven. After Wes had been released from the hospital, Joven had slaved over him, caring for him day and night. Wes couldn’t help but enjoy the attention just a little bit. 

Along with caring for Wes, Joven had also been almost obsessively telling him how much he loved him, and Wes had been doing the same. The two men had shared many kisses and (delicate) cuddles, never wanting to not be touching the other. Despite the tragic situation they were in, they were so disgustingly happy to be alive and in love.

And that was all that mattered to them.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m back, this time with some Weshire! I’m super painfully sick right now so I felt in the perfect mood for some angst ;) This was kind of new for me so please, leave your thoughts in the comments below! (Also, I just created a tumblr! Go follow me at HavingAGoodLaugh!!)


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